


six weasley siblings and a funeral

by softlikethesunset



Series: six weasley siblings [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crying, Dead Fred, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, funeral for george's brother and best friend, like a lot of crying, molly weasley's sweaters™
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:20:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 2,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27254830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softlikethesunset/pseuds/softlikethesunset
Summary: bill weasley always loved the sunshine.charlie weasley has no idea what's happening.percy weasley hates funerals.george weasley keeps his door locked.ron weasley is very good at chess.ginny weasley has always loved fuzzy socks.fred weasley's still dead.or, every weasley sibling is feeling bad in the times before fred's funeral, and they have someone to comfort them. even charlie.disclaimer: jkr no longer owns the hp series. i do. go away joanne rowling.cross-posted on wattpad as well.
Relationships: Arthur Weasley/Molly Weasley, Charlie Weasley & Molly Weasley, Fleur Delacour/Bill Weasley, Golden Trio - Relationship, Harry Potter & Ron Weasley, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Percy Weasley/Oliver Wood, george weasley& arthur weasley, romione's canon yay
Series: six weasley siblings [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1989868
Comments: 20
Kudos: 68





	1. photos on the wall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bill confronts his grief.

Bill Weasley always loved the sunshine.

He supposes that’s why he took the job in Egypt.

The weather there is a lot less gloomier than cloudy, gray England.

And he’s pretty sure it’s a cruel twist of fate that the sun is shining on the day of his brother’s funeral.

No one at the Burrow was happy that day, but the sun seemed to be getting along just fine.

Everyone was moping through the house in the morning, the blinds pulled shut, multiple pots of coffee made.

Bill and Fleur had spent the last two weeks at his childhood home, staying in Bill’s old bedroom. 

Pictures of seven-redheads were tacked along the walls, and in a fit of fury on a week before Fred’s funeral, Bill yanked them all down, casting the thumbtacks aside.

Only a scrap of paper remained, barely hanging onto a splinter. Bill saw it and folded it up, stuffing it into his pocket.

Once all the pictures lay on the floor, Bill crept to a corner of his bedroom and slid down the wall, sobbing.

“Bill? Are you alright?”

It was Fleur.

Bill wiped his eyes. “N-no.”

Fleur sat beside him. “It’s alright. Fred meant a lot to you, no?”

“He meant..” Bill sniffled. “So much.”

“‘e was a wonderful boy.” Fleur assured him. 

“He was. Y’know, have I ever told you about the time he and George bewitched my favorite shoes to make them fly? Fred did it himself. It was before he went to Hogwarts so I don’t know how he did it..”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bleur is seriously underrated.
> 
> and bill deserved more page time.


	2. knitten sweaters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> charlie finds more of his mother's sweaters.

Charlie Weasley has no idea what’s happening.

He hasn’t been for two weeks, since they got home from Hogwarts and started preparing for Fred’s funeral.

Everythings is tinged with blue, everything he sees is a reminder of someone he’s lost.

His mum is knitting sweaters like crazy, despite it not being Christmas, and Charlie’s pretty sure he has enough new sweaters to last a month.

Everyone else does too.

Oliver Wood, although not officially part of the family, has already gotten 3 pullovers with a big “O” on each.

Percy gets wolf-whistled at when he trudges downstairs one morning with one of Oliver’s sweaters on.

There’s a stack no one touches, though, all hand-embroidered with a letter F.

Each time his mum knits one, she barricades herself in her bedroom and cries till morning.

Fred’s aren’t the only ones in the pile, however, and when Charlie trips on one and stares down at it, his heart drops into his stomach.

A bubblegum pink sweater lying on the floor, a letter T sewn on.

A sob built up in Charlie’s throat.

Tonks was his best friend at Hogwarts. They did everything together.

His heart ached for the times they would spend with Hagrid- tea every Sunday and hours upon hours of researching cool creatures.

His foot caught on another sweater, this one dark green, and Charlie lifted it off the ground, curious.

This particular sweater is lacking the signature letter on the front, but upon examining the sleeves, Charlie found a golden RL stitched into the cuff.

Remus Lupin.

Charlie scrambled to pick up the rest of the sweaters, his head spinning as he searched the rest of the knits.

LB.

Lavender Brown, Ron’s ex-girlfriend.

An image flashed before Charlie’s eyes, of a young girl, her face slashed to ribbons, lying on a cot in the destroyed Great Hall.

CC.

A Gryffindor boy, in Ginny’s year. Charlie blinks, and his eyes are swimming with tears.

AM.

Alastor Moody. Charlie chuckled. There was no way Moody would ever wear that sweater if he were alive.

GP.

Gideon Prewett, his mum’s older brother.

FP.

And Fabian, her other brother.

JP and LP.

Charlie searched his mind. JP, LP? Did he ever hear about a JP or LP?

“James and Lily Potter.” 

Charlie swirled around, coming face-to-face with his mum. “Oh. Hi, Mum. I-I was just looking, I didn’t mean to-”

“Oh, it’s okay.” His mum told him, taking the sweaters. “I was with them in the Order, y’know. Such a lovely couple. It’s a shame they weren’t around to see Harry grow up.”

Charlie finds himself sitting on the paisley-patterned couch. “Yeah, it is. Who’s this one?” He holds out another sweater.

CD. 

“Cedric Diggory, of course. Poor boy. He was a rather kind young man.”

Charlie smiled. He remembered Cedric, who grew up over the hill on the other side of Ottery St. Catchpole.

PL. 

“Pandora Lovegood, Luna Lovegood’s mother. She was a wonderful lady, it’s a shame that one experiment went wrong-”

SB.

His mother tells him Sirius, although a little reckless at times, was one of the greatest men she ever knew,

Slowly, they trudge through the pile, his mum telling him about the person they should’ve belonged to.

Once they reach the last sweater, both of their eyes are red and puffy, and Charlie feels as if he’s been to a thousand funerals.

Then he remembers the funeral he has to attend the next week, his brother’s, and he cries.

His mother cries with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i want a weasley sweater so bad.
> 
> also charlie deserved more page time.


	3. everything's not okay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> percy still blames himself.

Percy Weasley hates funerals.

He hates the finality of it all, how the coffin is lowered into the ground and then you’ll never see someone you love again.

He hates how formal everyone is, shaking hands like they’re meeting the Minister.

However, the Minister, Kingsley Shacklebolt, is going to be there, so Percy assumes everyone will be shaking his hand.

He hates how it’s all “sorry for your loss” and “they will be remembered”. Everyone is going to forget Fred within a week anyways.

He hates how everybody cries loudly and blows their noses dramatically, as if Fred meant the world to them.

He hates how it’s his fault there’s a funeral today in the first place.

Percy contemplates this as they walk down the grassy hill the Burrow sits on, heading towards the apple tree grove Fred and George used to hold makeshift Quidditch games in.

Fred’s to be buried there.

“Yeh alright, Percy?”

Percy hates many things about today, but if there’s one thing that’ll help him through it, it’s his boyfriend.

Oliver’s hair is shining in the sun, and his eyes are the color of honey.

Percy takes Oliver’s hand. “I hate funerals.”

“Everythin's gonna be alright, Perce. I promise.” 

“I guess.” Percy said, his sadness seeping through his voice.

“Hey.” Oliver grabbed Percy’s shoulders and turned Percy around to face him. “Ya have to stop blamin’ yourself for this.”

“I know.” Percy sighed, averting his boyfriend’s gaze. Oliver had given this speech at least ten different times in ten different formats over the last two weeks.

“Percy.” The boy in question looks up, tears streaming down his face. 

Oliver takes Percy’s hands in his own. “Percy, none of this is your fault, ‘kay? It’s not. So I’m gonna need ya to stop acting like you’re the reason this here funeral is ‘appening in the first place.”

Percy nodded, his hands shaking. “Okay.”

Oliver squeezed them tighter. “Okay.”

“Everything alright?” Ginny asked, slowing to a stop at the base of the hill.

Oliver let go of one of Percy’s hands, keeping his grip on one, letting the other hang between them. 

“Yes.” Percy said, gripping onto Oliver’s hand for support. “Everything’s fine.”

He was lying through his teeth, and Oliver seemed to notice, because he leaned over to whisper in Percy’s ear. “I’m here, Percy. I’m not going anywhere.”

Percy shot his boyfriend a grateful glance. 

Together, they walked down the hill towards the funeral.

And people shook the Minister’s hand.

They murmured cordial apologies.

They cried louder than they should have, blew their noses dramatically, and Percy hated the whole thing as much as he knew he would.

He cried when he heard George’s eulogy, his shoulders trembling and his cheeks burning.

Oliver held his hand the whole time.

And when Percy blamed himself again, Oliver was there to remind him none of it was his fault.

Everything was not okay, but with Oliver here, he’d get through it.

Everything would be okay someday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> percy weasley deserved MORE PAGE TIME.
> 
> and so did oliver wood, of course.
> 
> and if you’re the type that likes to say, “percy should’ve died,not fred”, stay 100 feet away from me at all times.
> 
> please and thank you. we do not tolerate percy weasley slander here.
> 
> mans spent his whole life trying to make it to the ministry, and when he does, no one in his family cares.
> 
> not to mention his own father saying that he might have gotten the position so the ministry could spy on the order.
> 
> and yes he was a prat, but he learned from it.
> 
> snape did not. draco had no redemption arc either, he was just redeemed all of a sudden.
> 
> he was being influenced by those around him.
> 
> the people who could determine his future.
> 
> he probably was ridiculed for being a "blood traitor", and when he makes a name for himself, it's all under false pretenses.
> 
> not to mention he told the minister he was resigning and then jinxed him.
> 
> iconic.
> 
> so , if you hate percy weasley, i beg of you, look a little deeper.
> 
> because his arc was the best in the series and that is a fact.


	4. lock the door tight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> george locks his door for two weeks.

George Weasley keeps his door locked.

He’s kept it locked for two weeks, refusing to come out, drawing the blinds.

On the first day, he didn’t leave his bed, the tissues piled up on his bedside table.

On the second day, he tires of crying, and instead practiced explosion spells on the teddy bear Katie Bell got for him on Valentine’s in their fifth year.

On the third day, he reorganized his sock drawer, pretending that Fred was doing the same on his side of the room, just like when they were five.

On the fourth day, he reorganized Fred’s sock drawer for him, because it was weird for Fred’s side to be so empty.

On the fifth day, he sleeps in Fred’s bed. His was feeling rather lonely.

On the sixth day, George tries to attach an Extendable Ear to the hole where his missing one used to be, so he could be whole again. It doesn't work.

On the seventh day, he realizes that his brother is never coming back.

On the eight, ninth, and tenth day, he does nothing.

On the eleventh day, he writes a letter to Fred.

On the twelfth day, he reads the letter back, cries, and sets it on fire. He thinks that letting go is the best way to finally be able to leave his bedroom. It’s not. He finally gives up on trying to charm the letter back into existence.

On the thirteenth day, he wonders why none of his family has come to visit him. It’s as easy as an alohomora, he thinks.

On the fourteenth day, his dad does.

His dad tells him that it’s okay. 

He doesn’t have to come out of his room, yet.

George tells him he’s at least coming for the funeral.

After that, he doesn’t know.

The morning of the funeral comes, and Arthur helps George tie his tie.

George tells his dad that the funeral seems stupid. That Fred would’ve wanted everyone to wear funny bow-ties and rainbow striped socks. 

Arthur agrees. But it’s all they can manage right now.

When they lower Fred’s coffin into the ground, Arthur and George cling to each other.

When George doesn’t leave his room for the next week, Arthur visits every day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this hurt.
> 
> and george should've gotten more page time.
> 
> i'm still salty about the lack of weasley brothers in the books.
> 
> and i loved exploring george and arthur's relationship.
> 
> arthur's relationships with his sons did not get enough page time period.


	5. together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ron weasley can't stop playing chess.

Ron Weasley is very good at chess.

In fact, the day before Fred’s funeral, chess is the only thing keeping him calm.

He plays match after match against Hermione, who eventually tires as the sun rises, making Harry replace her.

Harry, extremely disgruntled from being woken up at 5 in the morning, loses almost every game.

“Ron,” He mumbles when he loses for the twentieth time in a row, “Are you sure you need to play 100 games before breakfast?”

“Yes,” Ron says, not entirely focused. “It’s the 95th game Harry, quit your whining.”

“Ron.” He says, this time a little more forcefully. “Today is Fred’s funeral.”

“I know.” Ron’s clutching a piece in his hand, his fingers wrapped around the cool marble. 

“It’s the morning of his funeral. You need sleep. Go. To. Bed.”

Ron shakes his head furiously, still holding the chess piece.

“He’s right, y’know.” Hermione has pulled herself out of bed, drinking a cup of coffee.

“Whatever.” Ron murmurs, dropping the piece.

“Ronald.” Hermione sits in a chair next to Harry. 

Ron feels like he’s being interrogated. All that’s missing is the white light shining in his face.

“Ron, we’re worried about you.” She says, taking his hand.

Ron laces his fingers with hers, sighing. “Me too.”

“I mean, everything’s gone crazy in my brain. All I can do is think about how I’m never gonna see Fred again- but chess makes me forget.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked, his face full of concern.

“I mean, chess helps me focus on something else. When I play, my mind is thinking about something beside Fred for once.” His voice lurches and a tear drips onto the table.

Hermione tightens her grip. “It’s okay.”

“No, it can’t be. Fred’s never coming back- does that mean I’m going to have to play chess my whole life? Just to escape the remembering?”

“No. No, Ron, you won’t.” She assures him.

“Yeah. We’ll figure it out, Ron. Together, just like we always have.” Harry tells him.

“Together?” He asks, his hand never leaving Hermione’s.

“Together.” His best friends told him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love the golden trio sm 🥺❣️
> 
> and ron deserved more page time
> 
> and a fandom who loves him tf are y'all doing with your "ron bashing"?
> 
> absolute clownery if you ask me


	6. three a.m. fly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ginny takes a quick fly on her broom the morning of fred's funeral.

Ginny Weasley has always loved fuzzy socks.

Especially the green and blue striped ones Fred got her for her 14th birthday.

She hasn’t taken them off for the last two weeks, not even this morning, when she woke up at three a.m for a quick fly.

She speeds around the forest on her broom, her tears falling into the wind. 

She’s only wearing her nightgown, and she’s freezing, but at least her feet were warm.

Her hair is hastily tied in a bun, and she’s trying not to hit every tree she comes across.

Tears aren’t very good for your vision.

When the sun rises, she’s hovering just above the trees, observing the Burrow through its many windows.

In the attic, no one moves- Ginny figures Ron’s probably bunking with Hermione.

In the twins’ room, the blinds are still drawn. George must still be hiding in there.

The reminder of Fred’s funeral blinks in her mind, and she squeezes her eyes, trying to ignore it.

After a couple seconds, she gives up.

She spins, and then she can see Bill in his room, tiptoeing quietly, obviously trying not to wake Fleur.

Ginny laughs to herself. Bill, usually so brave, bold, but around Fleur, on edge. He must not want to sleep on the couch.

A memory appears, one of finding Fred and George laying on the couch in the common room, a book of pranks between them.

Ginny kept herself safe from all of their shenanigans that year.

Charlie’s not in his room, either, but Ginny figures that he’s already awake. He was in charge of feeding the dragons in the morning.

She assumed that Percy and Oliver were still sleeping. Otherwise, Ginny was sure that Oliver would be in the air, too,- with an irritated Percy running after him.

She’s instantly reminded of the time Fred crashed into her window when she was late for Quidditch practice.

Wood made him do two hundred laps after that.

She spots Harry, Ron, and Hermione in the kitchen, Ron and Hermione’s hands clasped together, a chess set lying forgotten between them.

She remembers the giant chess set, remembers Fred wrapping his arms around her and crying when they won the House Cup.

Her parents are in the living room, arms wrapped around each other.

Ginny hovers for a few more minutes before landing, her cheeks tinged with red from the cold.

She hears people inside the house- but stops outside the door, her hand resting on the doorknob.

The door swings open, and Harry stands before her, a Weasley jumper thrown over his nightshirt.

She throws herself into her arms before letting all of her sobs loose.

“Ginny?” He asks, before burying his face into her shoulder.

“I miss him, Harry.” She whispers.

“I know.” Harry tells her, stroking her hair.

“Will I ever stop missing him?”

“I don’t know.”

They break apart before Ginny gestures to the broom in her hand. 

“Up for a fly?”

Harry’s face breaks into a grin. 

“Of course.”

While they’re soaring through the sky, Ginny thinks that it wouldn’t be so bad if she remembered Fred for the rest of her life.

She had some pretty good memories with him, anyways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ginny weasley deserved more page time and that's a fact.


	7. the not-so-grand finale

Fred Weasley's dead.

But his siblings all have someone to lean on.


End file.
